


In Her Father's Eyes

by holhorsinaroundafterdark (holhorsinaround)



Category: Original Work, World of Warcraft
Genre: Choking, Verbal Abuse, alar pops a torture boner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:33:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holhorsinaround/pseuds/holhorsinaroundafterdark
Summary: An interaction between Alar and Valthyris. Not necessarily canon to Alar's and Tyrestra's storyline.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Valthyris Rosefury is my RP partner's character and Tyrestra's father. He's written to be vile and hated, irredeemable, and will eventually have in-character interactions with Alar and Ty.  
> Sometimes you just have to write torture scenes where your Troll gets a boner, yeah?

It was one of those painful, deep in his chest kind of achings that he felt as his fingers slid into the fabric of Tyrestra's father's shirt collar. They wound their way into the soft, clearly expensive yet dirtied fabric as the burning and threatening bile in his stomach gave way to a sweet, delicate pleasure.

The man, Valthyris Rosefury, looked worse for wear already, but with the lumbering, tall Troll holding him by the shirt, he looked ready to stain his pants. Alar's lips twitched at the corners as his left, dominant hand slid up the man's shoulder to his neck. His skin caressed the other's with a light, gentle touch as his palm traced to his cheek.

Tyrestra stood nearby, watching but not watching, hands balled into fists and tears staining her cheeks.

Slowly, Alar led his hand to rest comfortably against his cheek, his thumb pressing to his lips.

He was easily at the very least two feet taller than the Sin'dorei. He had to bend to get near his face. It was worth it. His heart rate picked up as he pulled the man closer by his collar and a swirl formed in his stomach. His tongue traced his lips, touching the edges of his tusks, daring not yet to speak. He had a lot he wanted to say.

He heard the man speak, himself, though he had no clue what was said through the frantic Thalassian. His eyes had shifted to Tyrestra, as if he were addressing her. Alar looked directly into his eyes with both hands continuing to gently press against the man's skin and shirt. All in all, he was being very gentle, very soft. He leaned closer and let his thumb trace once more over Valthyris' lips, his teeth biting his own lower lip.

"Nice to finally meet you."

His lips twitched, eyes watching his face.

He continued, his voice quiet. Smooth. "You spent years controllin' and manipulatin' her." His voice wavered. He'd have to fix that. He couldn't show weakness here. Valthyris continued to tremble as Alar leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. What it lacked in pitch was made up for with an oozing, permeating, tender tone, as if Alar was cooing at Tyrestra herself.

Maybe that's why the cold, bitter words came so easily. This man was her father.

Flesh and blood; he even saw a resemblance. Kind of.

"You still control her, even if she don't admit it." He tilted his head as the man began to protest again, once more turning to Tyrestra. However, Alar shut him up. His palm grazed his cheek while his fingertip pressed to his lips. He lowered his eyes, the space between them being filled as Alar stepped closer. He bit his lip again, tongue tracing across it before he lifted his eyes back to the elf's.

"Not anymore." 

He stepped back, rising to his full eight foot height. He was certain that Valthyris had relieved himself by now, eyes wide as he watched Alar.

Alar tilted his head again, all warmth beginning to leave his demeanor. He rolled his tongue against his cheek then his lip. The tip of his tongue pressed between his teeth with his lips parted.

"Mmm. Idiot." He began to lean down again, getting in his face. "Worthless. Weak." He moved closer to Valthyris and he let his face dip down near his neck, eyes closed. His lips were close to Valthyris' ear. "You aren't worth it, try harder, stop messin' up." His fingers clenched tighter around the man's collar, his left hand moving to rest on the man's throat. His lips pressed closer to the man's ear. His palm leaned into his throat, just enough to suggest a threat to his air intake. "Pathetic, unworthy, yer fuckin'. Up." He drew out the last three words, exhaling on the last.

"You seem scared. Don' worry." He grinned, his eyes opening once more. He chuckled and shook his head, bangs falling across his brow. "I ain't gonna hur'cha." He snorted, laughing again. "Well, no more or no worse than y'did Tyrestra."

The elf began to silently protest and Alar spoke again, cooing, voice filled with venom. "Oh, this time won't be dissappointin'. I'm sure you'll be quite proud." If he hadn't relieved himself by now, he had by this point. Alar could sense his heartrate increase; he felt the man's blood pulsing through him. His palm was still against the man's throat by this point, but it moved back up to his cheek.

His thumb pressed back into his lips.

"I promise. Ty ain't gonna worry no which way anymo' about anythin' you have to say." He pulled back and looked the man over, still hunched almost to his height. His eyes flashed cold with anger. "I promise you that." His thumb traced the man's lips. "I will personally use steel wirin'." His eyes grazed the man's face as he spoke, inflection on each word. "Stitch. By. Stitch." He leaned close enough for their noses to touch, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes traced back down to the man's lips, half closed. "Sew yer mouth shut... so Ty ain't gotta hear a single. Word. From you."

Valthyris was trembling against him, no longer voicing any protests.

Alar felt blood rushing through his body, a deep satisfaction settling somewhere near his stomach. This wasn't arousal, but it bordered a terrifying boundary. He hadn't felt this particular excitement, this vein of delicious, sweet lust in years at least. He felt a tug in his groin.

It terrified him, exhilerated him. Made him feel dirty. "Oh, yes..." He began to add; he still wasn't sure what to do with his tongue. It kept grazing his teeth, his lips, his inner cheek. "There will be dues t'pay..."

The man finally spat out some words Alar could understand. "I hate you." He could barely speak. 

Alar's lips pulled into yet another grin before it disappeared, a chuckle accompanying it. He let his head turn to the side, hair falling into his eyes, and glanced to Tyrestra. She simply shook her head and Alar took one step back, fingers back against Valthyris' shirt collar. Just as quickly, he turned back to the man, his expression and voice cold. "You don't know the meaning of hate."


End file.
